Welcome to part three of my TinyD6/Cyberpunk solo campaign set in the year 2078. I really hope you like what happened so far.
I have to admit that I really enjoyed working through the NCART schedules. I even found myself checking times and distances for several of the travels in the Cyberpunk 2077 computergame. Of course I am looking to have enough credits to buy a cool vehicle for Charm, but I will miss the local public transport of Night City quite a lot… lol!
Let’s continue the adventure… in Pacifica!
Scene #11 – Los Osos Hotel
Megabuilding H04, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-11-2078, 12:54
The insistent buzz of the comm yanked Charm from a restless sleep. It was Gen, her voice crackling through the headset with that familiar blend of cynicism and efficiency. “Chambers,” Gen’s voice rasped, “Got a proposition for you. Retrieval job. West Wind Estate. Los Osos Hotel.”
Charm groaned inwardly. West Wind Estate was a festering wound on Night City’s landscape – a sprawling junkyard where scavengers picked over the bones of the old world. “Retrieval? What am I retrieving, Gen? A rusty toaster?”
“A vehicle,” Gen replied, dismissive as ever. “Modified Thorton Galena G240. Needs to be out by tomorrow morning. Payment’s 1650 eddies.” Charm almost laughed at the paltry sum; it barely covered a week’s worth of nutrient paste and Kibbles. “Extremely dangerous, naturally. Voodoo Boys don’t take kindly to outsiders. But doable if you play your cards right.”
The risk was undeniable, but 1650 eddies was decent. “Alright,” Charm conceded, the word laced with a weary resignation. “I’m in.” Gen didn’t bother confirming; she simply stated, “You get paid when you deliver the vehicle. Don’t screw it up.” The line went dead.
Charm kicked at the air, sending a stray Kibble skittering across the floor. She plucked one from between her toes and popped it into her mouth, the artificial cherry flavor doing little to lift her mood. Getting up, she pulled on her new Arasaka polycarbonate-laced bulletproof aramid vest and some reinforced trousers – standard issue for navigating Night City’s underbelly. The apartment felt colder than usual this morning. A quick glance in the cracked mirror confirmed what she already knew: cute ass, badly maintained. She headed out, needing something more substantial than Kibbles to fuel her next venture – a greasy burger from a street vendor was calling her name.
Kabuki Roundabout, Kabuki, Watson – 12-11-2078, 17:32
The greasy, synthetic meat of the burger did little to soothe Charm’s nerves, but it was something. She leaned against a grimy wall near the Kabuki Roundabout, watching the neon-drenched chaos unfold around her. A Trauma Team Zetatech Atlus zipped through the air corridors, its exhaust trails painting fleeting streaks across the perpetually overcast sky. The usual throng of chromed edgerunners, desperate tourists, and weary laborers flowed past, each lost in their own digital or physical struggles.
With a few hours to kill before she needed to head out for West Wind Estate, Charm decided to wander. Kabuki was always good for people-watching – a kaleidoscope of cybernetics, fashion choices, and desperation. She strolled through the crowded streets, dodging vendors hawking everything from black market cyberware to bootleg braindances. The air hummed with the low thrum of electricity and the incessant chatter of news stations.
“Public outcry after video of armed gangs executing police officers in Tokyo was released.”
She eventually drifted into Little China, drawn by the promise of something slightly less… artificial. The area was a labyrinth of narrow alleyways and towering tenements, draped in strings of faded lanterns and overflowing with the scent of exotic spices and cheap noodles.
Charm paused before a fortune teller’s stall, the woman’s face obscured by layers of makeup and cybernetic enhancements. A holographic sign proclaimed “Future Revealed – 50 eddies.” Charm scoffed inwardly. The future was rarely revealed; it was usually forged in blood, sweat, and compromised code. She continued her walk, a sense of unease settling over her. West Wind Estate awaited.
Los Osos Hotel, West Wind Estate, Pacifica – 12-11-2078, 23:10
The air in West Wind Estate smelled like decay – rust, rot, and piss. Los Osos Hotel loomed before Charm like a skeletal monument to forgotten dreams, its once-grand facade now crumbling under the relentless assault of Pacifica’s harsh climate. This was deep Voodoo Boys territory, and she could practically taste the tension radiating from the dilapidated buildings. Stealing a car here wasn’t just risky; it felt like poking a sleeping cyberpsycho with a rusty stick.
Charm circled the hotel, her boots crunching on shattered concrete and discarded debris. Catalina Street and Santa Maria Street were choked with makeshift stalls selling scavenged parts and questionable pharmaceuticals. The faces she passed were etched with hardship – gaunt, hollow-eyed, and radiating an unsettling mix of defiance and resignation. She kept a low profile, blending into the shadows as best she could, acutely aware that every corner could conceal a pair of watchful eyes or a hidden blade.
There it was – the Thorton Galena G240, gleaming faintly under the sickly glow of the streetlights. It sat parked in the hotel’s small parking lot, looking incongruously pristine amidst the surrounding squalor. Charm approached cautiously, a quick scan confirmed it: the chassis number matched Gen’s intel perfectly. This was the prize.
She initiated a rapid sequence of quickhacks, bypassing the vehicle’s security protocols. Lines of code flowed across her vision as she silently unlocked the doors and disabled the alarm system. No sirens blared, no lights flashed – just a smooth, silent opening. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she felt the familiar surge of adrenaline. The engine purred to life with a satisfying growl, responding instantly to her touch. Charm eased the car out of the parking lot, maintaining a slow, deliberate pace, careful not to attract unwanted attention.
The drive along Dogtown Gate was agonizingly tense. She kept her speed low, hugging the edges of the road, acutely aware that she was driving through enemy territory. Then, her comms screamed – Gen’s voice, clipped and urgent. “Delivery coordinates incoming.” A dot appeared on her optics overlay, marking a location several miles away.
Charm couldn’t help but chuckle as she analyzed the coordinates. Japantown? That was… conveniently easy. She followed the Pacific Boulevard, merging onto the NC Ringroad South, then continue onto NC Ringroad East. The highway stretched before her, a ribbon of cracked asphalt cutting through the urban wasteland. Nobody seemed to be following her, which felt unsettling in itself. It was too quiet, too smooth, way too easy. Something was going to crash on her, she just knew it.
As she drove onto the NC Ringroad East, a wave of melancholy washed over her. This highway… it held a dark memory. Her parents had died here, years ago, in what the official reports called a tragic accident – a blown tire and a loss of control due to driving under the influence.
She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the road ahead. Taking the exit for Japantown, she followed the winding streets until she located the designated garage – a nondescript building tucked away in a quiet side street. A man emerged from the shadows as she pulled up, his face obscured by the dim light. He was built like a brick wall and radiated an aura of quiet menace.
“Gen sent you?” he grunted, without preamble. Charm nodded curtly. The transaction was swift and efficient. He transferred the 1650 eddies directly into her account, then disappeared back into the shadows as quickly as he’d appeared. No pleasantries, no thank yous – just a cold exchange of money for services rendered. The job was done, she was alive, and she had 1650 eddies.
Scene #12 – Digging deeper
Megabuilding H04, Arroyo, Santo Domingo – 12-12-2078, 10:55
Charm ran a complex filter through the Kang Tao employee database she found on the data stick. She narrowed her focus, isolating individuals with any connection to Project Echelon – current employees, former contractors, anyone who had even brushed against the project’s orbit. The initial results were overwhelming; dozens of names flooded her screen. But she persisted, refining the search until she had a manageable list of thirty individuals, each linked to the project in some way.
Sorting them by job position was crucial. She wanted to identify the key players – the architects and engineers driving Project Echelon forward. The algorithm whirred, rearranging the names into descending order based on their perceived importance. Wang Long topped the list, designated as “Lead Architect – Neural Integration.” Zheng Bo followed closely behind, listed as “Protocol Development.” And then there was Tao Ling: “Director of Research – Cognitive Mapping.” These were her priorities now. The linchpins of Project Echelon.
While her workstation crunched the numbers and cross-referenced data points, Charm decided to take a break. Staring at screens for too long could lead to headaches and missed details. She headed down the grimy hallway of Megabuilding H40. The food vendors in this place were notoriously overpriced, but they offered a semblance of normalcy amidst the decay.
She grabbed a nutrient-rich wrap from one of the stalls – something vaguely resembling synthetic chicken and vegetables – and headed back to her apartment. As she ate, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was sitting on a powder keg. Project Echelon… the name alone felt ominous. A dormant virus? A weaponized AI? The possibilities were terrifying.
Back in her cramped apartment, Charm waited for the workstation to complete the data analysis and turned her attention to the video recordings recovered from the chip. She selected the first file – a grainy recording of a meeting taking place within a sterile-looking laboratory. The faces were blurred, their voices distorted by the compression algorithms, but she could make out snippets of conversation about “neural pathways” and “cognitive resonance.”
The second video showed a demonstration of some kind of advanced technology – a complex network of wires and sensors connected to a human subject. The subject’s eyes flickered with unnatural patterns as they appeared to be experiencing something beyond normal perception. Charm felt a knot tighten in her stomach. This wasn’t just about malware; it was about manipulating the humans by glitching or taking over their cyberware.
She fast-forwarded through the recordings, pausing on moments that seemed particularly significant – fleeting glimpses of faces, snippets of conversations, and strange technological artifacts. Each video fragment added another piece to the puzzle, slowly revealing a picture of something vast, complex, and deeply unsettling.
Scene #13 – An interruption
PieZ Restaurant, Rancho Coronado, Santo Domingo – 12-13-2078, 13:17
The PieZ restaurant was a greasy haven in Rancho Coronado, and Charm had found herself drawn to its flickering neon sign after a particularly intense morning. The questionable aroma of synthetic meat and stale grease hung in the air, but it was a familiar comfort. She sat at the counter with her back to the entrance, munching a cheese burger – the synthetic patty surprisingly palatable today.
Suddenly, a soft female voice broke through her thoughts. “Excuse me, is this stool free?”
Without turning or even bothering to look, Charm gestured a thumb upwards, indicating that the seat was open. She continued chewing, lost in her own world, until the person sat down. Then, as she finally looked up from her meal, she froze. It was Officer Denysivna – or rather, the woman who had brought her to the Medpoint after she’d been shot by an unknown assailant.
Charm hastily grabbed a napkin and began wiping her lips and fingers, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The encounter was unexpected and awkward. NCPD officers weren’t exactly known for their leniency towards netrunners like her. A smile slowly spread across her face, though, a mixture of relief and gratitude overriding the initial apprehension.
“I do feel much better,” she said, her voice slightly shaky as she met Officer Denysivna’s gaze. “And I really want to thank you again for rescuing me. That bullet… it could have been worse.” She paused, searching for the right words. “You saved my life.”
Officer Denysivna nodded curtly and placed her order with the bored-looking waitress. “Just doing my job,” she replied, but there was a hint of warmth in her voice that didn’t quite match the official tone. She turned back to Charm, extending her hand across the counter. “My name is Nadiya.”
Charm hesitated for a moment before shaking Nadiya’s hand, surprised by the firmness of her grip. The gesture felt… unexpectedly friendly. It was a stark contrast to the cold professionalism she’d expected from an NCPD officer.
“It’s good to meet you again, Nadiya,” Charm said, returning the handshake with a genuine smile. “I’m Renee Chambers.” She wondered what brought Nadiya to this particular diner, and why she seemed so… relaxed. Was it just coincidence? Or was there something more going on? The questions swirled in her mind as she took another bite of her burger.
They continued to eat their meals and had ordered a couple of NiColas, the sugary beverage fizzing faintly between them. Charm couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t entirely random. The NCPD didn’t typically make unscheduled visits to greasy spoon diners to chat with netrunners they’d previously rescued.
The conversation was light and casual, a deliberate avoidance of anything remotely serious. They talked about the weather – or rather, the lack thereof in Night City’s perpetually overcast skies – and the latest episode Info Flash with Ruth Dzeng. Charm found herself leaning against the counter, resting her head on her palm, half-listening to Nadiya’s anecdotes about dealing with malfunctioning drones and overly enthusiastic tourists. It was a welcome distraction from the looming shadow of Project Echelon.
An hour passed in a comfortable blur, punctuated by the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversations around them. Then, without fanfare, Nadiya stood up, pushing her half-eaten bowl away. “Well, Miss Chambers…” she said, her voice still retaining that unexpected warmth, “I have to get going. Duty calls.” She paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “Thank you for spending my break with me, Renee. It was… pleasant.”
As Nadiya turned to leave, she hesitated, then spun back around, her expression carefully neutral. “We’ll probably meet again,” she said, the words hanging in the air between them. Then, with a final smile, she disappeared into the crowded streets of Night City.
Charm stared at the space where Nadiya had been standing, feeling a strange mix of confusion and… something else entirely. She mumbled to herself, barely loud enough for anyone to hear, “Did… did that cop just flirt with me?” The thought was so absurd it almost made her laugh. Officer Denysivna – Nadiya – had been surprisingly charming, even disarmingly so. And then, a startling realization hit her: she hadn’t been entirely repulsed by it. In fact… she might have even enjoyed it.
Charm leaned back against the counter, a small smile playing on her lips. The thought was both shocking and strangely appealing. A netrunner, flirting with an NCPD officer? It was ludicrous, dangerous, and utterly captivating. And most importantly… she found herself admitting to herself that she was okay with it. Very much so, in fact.
Scene #14 – Margje Muisebelt, Amsterdam Subsidiary
Lobby, Kang Tao Building, Copro Plaza, City Center – 12-17-2078, 16:46
The last seventy-two hours had been busy. Charm had sunk herself deep into Delamain’s network, meticulously planting the ‘Whisperwind’ virus – a nasty piece of code designed to disrupt communication to their car fleet. The payout was decent: 1200 eddies for the initial drop. But then came the kicker – Delamain searched for a runner and wanted Charm to remove it. And they were paying her 1000 eddies to remove it. A classic corpo double-cross, and Charm had taken the money without complaint.
The 1200 eddies hadn’t lasted long. Charm needed to disappear, to become invisible amongst the corporate drones. She’d spent most of what remained on a new wardrobe, meticulously crafting an image that screamed “middle management.”
It wasn’t exactly comfortable. A stiff, grey office dress clung uncomfortably to her frame, paired with a pair of aggressively high heels that threatened to twist her ankle with every step. To complete the look, she’d acquired a sensible handbag. It felt ridiculous, like playing dress-up, but it was necessary. She figured she could move around the Kang Tao office building much easier if she looked like one of them.
The heels were already killing her feet, but she ignored the discomfort, focusing on the task ahead. “Right,” she muttered under her breath, adjusting an id tag holder. “Let’s see how well a netrunner can play corpo drone.” She hailed a cab, giving the driver the address. This was going to be tricky.
The sheer scale of the Kang Tao building at Corpo Plaza was enough to make Charm feel insignificant. It loomed over her, a monument to corporate power and ambition, its polished surface reflecting the sky like a distorted mirror. Charm stood before the massive rotary doors, taking a deep breath – a shaky inhale that she hoped didn’t betray her nerves.
Thanks to a few hours spent meticulously combing through the Kang Tao employee database, she had everything she needed. A believable ID, complete with a name – Margje Muisebelt – a branch assignment (Strategic Resource Allocation), a security clearance level that granted access to most of the lower floors, and even a fabricated social security number. It was a fragile construct, built on stolen data and a healthy dose of confidence, but it should hold up under casual scrutiny.
With another deep breath, Charm pushed through the rotary doors, the polished surface reflecting her carefully constructed image back at her. The interior was all sterile black marble walls, gleaming orange accents, and the low hum of climate control – a deliberate attempt to create an atmosphere of efficiency and order.
The receptionist, a woman with perfectly sculpted hair and eyes that seemed perpetually bored, barely glanced up as Charm approached. “ID, please,” she said, her voice devoid of any warmth. Charm smoothly presented the fabricated ID, reciting her cover story with practiced ease. “Margje Muisebelt, Strategic Resource Allocation. Amsterdam Subsidiary.” She added a touch of nervous enthusiasm to her tone, hoping it would sell the “new transfer” angle.
The receptionist scrutinized the ID, running it through a scanner that emitted a soft beep. Charm held her breath, willing the system to accept the data without error. After what felt like an eternity, the woman finally looked up, a flicker of something – perhaps mild annoyance – crossing her face. “Alright,” she said curtly. “You’re cleared. Have a good day.”
A smile stretched across Charm’s face, a genuine expression of relief and triumph that quickly masked itself behind a carefully cultivated air of corporate professionalism. The heels clicked sharply on the polished floor as she walked down the hallway. She headed towards the nearest lift, its mirrored panels reflecting her image – Margje Muisebelt, new transfer from Amsterdam, ready to conquer Night City. The doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss, and Charm stepped inside.
Scene #15 – Oh hello, Mr. Wong
Floor 27, Kang Tao Building, Copro Plaza – 12-17-2078, 17:08
The elevator doors opened on floor 27, depositing Charm into a brightly lit hallway bustling with activity. She exited smoothly, offering a casual greeting to the small group of people waiting near the water cooler. “Morning,” she said, attempting a breezy tone that felt slightly out of place in her corporate attire.
Suddenly, a sharp, commanding female voice cut through the ambient noise. “Hey, you! Get in here!” Charm spun around, scanning the hallway until her gaze landed on a sleek, black office door. Next to it hung a small brass plaque: “Ms. Xing Lian.”
Charm’s carefully constructed composure wavered for a moment before she regained control. “Excuse me,” she said politely, approaching the office door. “How can I assist you, lǎobǎn?”
The response was immediate and laced with icy disdain. “Move your ass and get me a coffee – black, no sugar. Now!” Xing Lian’s voice dripped with impatience. Charm blinked, momentarily taken aback by the abruptness. She affirmed with a curt nod, turned on her heel, and walked away, muttering under her breath, “Get your own fucking coffee, bitch.” The heels clicked a defiant rhythm against the polished floor as she headed towards another hallway, rebuilding the carefully crafted Margje Muisebelt persona.
Charm paused before the office door marked “Wang Long – Lead Architect, Neural Integration,” her heart hammering against her ribs. She knocked, but received no response. A quick assessment revealed a standard mechanical lock – child’s play for a bad girl like herself. With a practiced twist of her wrist and a faint click, the lock yielded.
She slipped inside, finding the room surprisingly tidy, almost sterile. The focus was on the large workstation dominating the space, its screen displaying complex schematics and lines of code. Charm quickly connected her cyberdeck to the terminal, bypassing the rudimentary security protocols with ease. She navigated through Wang Long’s files, hoping to unearth something – anything – about Project Echelon.
The initial search yielded a treasure trove of information. Schematics for various Neuralware devices flooded the screen – neural implants, sensory augmentation systems, even experimental brain-computer interfaces. But it was the Links that caught her attention. The documents detailed how Project Echelon utilized different Link types to interface the malware with these Neuralware systems. From what she could gather it was about hijacking.
Project Echelon appeared to be designed to infiltrate existing Neuralware, overriding their functions and effectively taking control of the devices connected to the neural processor – a terrifying prospect. Charm meticulously copied the files onto her cyberdeck, ensuring every schematic and data point was secured. As she prepared to leave, something else caught her eye: a hidden folder containing Wang Long’s personal information. She quickly downloaded his private address and a photograph of his family – a small but potentially valuable piece of leverage.
The sudden sound of voices outside the office door sent a jolt of adrenaline through Charm. She reacted instantly, swiftly moving behind a plush leather sofa positioned near the window, pressing herself against the wall and holding her breath. The room felt suddenly small, every creak of the floorboards amplified in the tense silence.
The door swung open, revealing two men – one unmistakably Wang Long, his face etched with a mixture of annoyance and haste. He was speaking to another man, whose features were initially obscured by the angle. “Darius Pearson,” Wang Long called him, his voice clipped and impatient. “Just… wait a moment. I forgot something.”
Charm peered around the corner of the sofa as Wang Long gestured for Pearson to remain in the hallway. The Chinese seemed visibly irritated, muttering under his breath about wasted time. He scanned the room briefly before noticing his computer terminal still running. His eyes narrowed as he quickly shut it down with a frustrated sigh.
Now, Charm could finally see who Darius Pearson truly was. It wasn’t just another corporate drone; it was Rooks. The man radiated an aura of quiet menace, his tailored suit concealing the subtle bulge of weaponry beneath. He stood perfectly still, a predator patiently waiting for its prey.
To be continued…
Thank you very much for following Charm’s adventure. I hope to see you next week for part four.
